


been dreaming about your loving, girl

by lightyears



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Birthday Sex, Blowjobs, Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/M, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 14:55:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21430063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightyears/pseuds/lightyears
Summary: He sees it as soon as he opens the gate and starts walking down the path to their front door.Granted, at first, he assumes it’s just a sign Clarke’s put up, a standardCome on in!to keep them from having to answer the door with each new arrival tonight, but it only takes him a few feet to realise his mistake — the glossiness of the paper and the distinct lack of writing pretty good indicators — and another few after that to recognise justhowwrong.Because despite the close and oftentimes overly-open relationship they’ve got with the group of friends coming over for his birthday dinner, Bellamy’s pretty sure Clarke wouldn’t greet them with a polaroid of herself in lingerie.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 221
Collections: Bellarke smut





	been dreaming about your loving, girl

**Author's Note:**

  * For [arysa13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arysa13/gifts).

> This is a little birthday fic for emily, because she's wonderful and provides us with so much quality smut
> 
> Happy birthday em, thanks for being your amazing self!
> 
> (PS yes the title is from the iconic song "birthday sex", i couldn't resist)

He sees it as soon as he opens the gate and starts walking down the path to their front door.

Granted, at first, he assumes it’s just a sign Clarke’s put up, a standard _Come on in!_ to keep them from having to answer the door with each new arrival tonight, but it only takes him a few feet to realise his mistake — the glossiness of the paper and the distinct lack of writing pretty good indicators — and another few after that to recognise just _how _wrong.

Because despite the close and oftentimes overly-open relationship they’ve got with the group of friends coming over for his birthday dinner, Bellamy’s pretty sure Clarke wouldn’t greet them with a polaroid of herself in lingerie.

“Fuck,” he says, heat rushing down his body at once, directly to his cock.

The photo is taped to the front door, and he peels it off before holding it up for inspection. Yeah, definitely his wife, definitely in some lacy lingerie he’s never seen before. A sultry, little smile tugging at her lips, come-hither eyes if he’s ever seen them, the familiar bluish lighting and stark contrast of the photo washing her skin milk-white and bra dark red.

The camera was his birthday present to her earlier this year, and whilst he’s grown used to finding photos of him, and them, and their cats, scattered around the place, she’s never taken one like this before. At least, she’s never _left_ one like this for him before.

After a last, lingering glance, taking in the photo he’ll spend a lot more time appreciating properly later, he pockets it and opens the front door, toeing his shoes off. The house is dim, definitely not set up for any sort of gathering, and as his eyes catch another slip of paper taped to the bannister at the bottom of the stairs, it becomes very clear that this is Clarke’s version of a surprise.

Promising a birthday dinner with their friends, and delivering an evening that’s shaping up to be quite different.

The second photo is cropped, the bottom of her face and top of her chest, pink, pouty lips and her perfect tits pressed close together, and the third, at the top of the stairs, is one from behind, an exaggerated pop of her ass, a deceptively-innocent smile as she looks over her shoulder at the camera.

Desire flares hot and greedy through him, and he continues her trail eagerly, finding the final teaser of a present on their bedroom door. Proper fuck-me eyes, bottom lip tugged between her teeth in a way she knows drives him crazy, finger crooked with an invitation he takes immediately.

When he pushes open the door, she’s sitting at the edge of their bed, one leg crossed over the other, a hand splayed behind her. A picture of perfect innocence compared to the polaroids, but still the hottest fucking thing he’s ever seen.

“Are we greeting all of our guests like this, princess?” He asks, after the long moment it takes to find his voice. The deep rumble doesn’t hide an ounce of his lust, and he’s sure she notices the bulge of his thickening cock beneath his trousers.

Clarke bites back her smile, tilting her head with mock-consideration. “We could’ve,” she says, a warm huskiness that prickles at his already-heated skin. Getting up from the bed, she comes to stand in front of him. In person, the lingerie is more of a rich-maroon than a dark one, perfect against the soft creamy-pink of her skin, and he drinks her in with a quick, hungry sweep of his gaze. “But I decided the guest list needed some serious culling.”

Bellamy smirks. “Is that so?”

With a wicked little grin, Clarke nods, hands running teasingly over his chest before she curls one around the back of his neck to tug him down, quick and firm. Her lips catch his greedily, and he groans into the kiss at the very first swipe of her tongue, getting lost in her like he always does; the sweet smell of her, from that coconut body wash she loves, the feel of her soft curves under his hands, the perfect, hungry taste of her, kissing him hot and deep, like it’s her absolute favourite thing to do.

When they finally part, they’re both breathing hard, and Bellamy can feel the curve of Clarke’s smile against his lips.

“Happy birthday, Bell,” she whispers, easing back with a sultry smile. “Ready for your present?”

His mind goes to this morning in the kitchen, when he was making breakfast and she wrapped her arms around him from behind. What he thought was a birthday hug quickly became a birthday hand-job, and after she made him come stupid-fast, she surprised him with some prepared presents as well, a handful of books he’d been meaning to read for months now, that she of course remembered from his passing comments.

“I think you already got me one, baby.”

She shakes her head with a smirk. “_Tonight’s_ present.”

Her hands are pressing at his chest and pushing him back against the door without any further warning, and Bellamy watches with growing arousal as she drops to her knees in front of him. Undoes his trousers and pulls his half-hard cock from his briefs. Takes him in with a wicked, hungry gaze and licks at her palm, wrapping it around him and working him with quick, firm strokes that have him completely hard within the minute.

He groans as the early draw of tension already pulls at his spine, though it’s nothing compared to the first touch of her tongue running up the underside of his cock, swirling around the sensitive head and lapping at the beaded pre-come.

“Fuck, Clarke,” he growls, and her smile is sinful when she pulls back.

“Later, babe,” she says, eyes darkening with heat as she looks up at him. “For now, let me treat you in this way, hm?”

With that, she takes him into the perfect warmth of her mouth properly, keeping her gaze locked on his as her lips stretch so pretty around his cock, as she begins a pace that holds absolutely no intention of teasing — instead one of building him up hard and fast.

Fingers moving to curl in hair, Bellamy watches hungrily as she starts to work him with the perfect suction of her lips and cheeks, the messy slide of her tongue. Each bob of her head has her easing further down his cock with soft whines that vibrate against him deliciously, a heady, intoxicating build, until, eyes finding his and flashing with arousal, she works herself to the base, the flutter of her throat so fucking good it’s a surprise he doesn’t come on the spot.

“Fuck, princess,” he groans, eyes falling shut as she lingers there for a few drawn moments, before finally pulling back to repeat the movement.

Shocks of pleasure run through him with each stroke of her mouth, released with rough words of praise, and it’s just as the beginnings of a familiar, unravelling build pulls tight that Clarke moans loudly, _purposefully_, her touch shifting from firm to _hard_. Bellamy’s eyes fly open again, and he watches as, best as she can with his cock in her mouth, she give him a sexy, little look, before relaxing her jaw in a way he recognises is permission to let go and fuck her mouth.

And _fuck_ if that invitation isn’t stupidly tempting, but as fantastic as her mouth is, he knows what he really wants right now, and it’s to be inside of her.

With his grasp in her hair, Bellamy eases Clarke off his cock, laughing when she pouts up at him pitifully. “Sorry, baby,” he murmurs, helping her up off her knees and leaning in to press a conciliatory kiss to her lips. “But I really want to fuck you.”

“You _were_ going to fuck me,” she says, voice husky and raw from his cock, so goddamn hot he almost can’t stand it.

“Fuck your _cunt_,” he corrects, and her eyes flash with an excitement she can’t hide, even when she’s pretending to be mad at his derailing of her birthday present. “Plus, I couldn’t see you in your pretty, little getup, princess. And I think it deserves some proper appreciation.”

Biting back a smile, she looks down at herself. “I do look pretty hot.”

His gaze drops in another indulgent sweep, taking in the matching lingerie so perfect on her curves. Pretty, maroon panties at her hips, and a laced bra that makes her tits look absolutely sinful. With the addition of her skin flushed pink, lips worked red and puffy, and eyes blown with arousal, she absolutely looks like someone who needs to be fucked.

“Irresistible,” he confirms, leaning in to kiss her again, but she pushes him away before he can get too carried away, tugging teasingly at his bottom lip with her teeth.

“Okay,” she hums, pulling back with a seductive little smile. “But I’m still in charge. Clothes off. On the bed.”

“Bossy,” he says, but he doesn’t argue any further, tugging off his clothes before moving onto their bed and lying down, his cock standing hard, still wet from her mouth. Wrapping a hand around it, he gives himself a few lazy strokes as he watches Clarke drink him in with a dark, hungry gaze. “Coming, princess?”

Her smirk is hot as hell, and she follows him slowly, purposefully, climbing onto the bed and crawling over him, and it’s only when she finally reaches his lap, pressing up to her knees, that he realises another little surprise he hadn’t earlier.

Replacing his hand with hers, Clarke guides the head of his cock between the lips of her pussy, letting him feel the perfect slickness of her arousal, despite not having undressed.

Crotchless panties.

“Christ, babe,” Bellamy groans, a rough, desperate laugh falling from his mouth when she giggles at his reaction. “That’s so fucking hot.”

“Yeah?” She asks, timing the question just as she lines them up properly, and he watches her sink down on him slowly  —  such a sexy sight when she’s covered in those laced panties — her cunt hot and slick, stretching perfectly as she takes him all in, until he’s buried completely inside of her.

“Fuck. Yes,” he says, heat rushing down his spine again, just from the sweet, tight feel of her. His hands move to her hips, fingers curling tight. “Fuck, I’m not gonna last long, princess.”

“Mm,” she hums, a pleased grin tugging at her lips as she settles her hands on his chest, nails scratching lightly. “I’m counting on it, Bell.”

He should’ve known. His wife is nothing if not competitive, and finds a stupid amount of enjoyment in making him come hard and fast, even if it delays her own release.

Again, she doesn’t ease into it at all, matching the earlier pace of her mouth as she settles into a quick, perfect rhythm, a wicked purposefulness to it that he adores. Pleasure pools hot at his core as Clarke rides him hard, and, already so on edge, it builds into a burning tension quickly. She begins murmuring dirty little asides about how good he feels stretching her, about how she can’t wait to feel him come inside of her, words affirmed by the pleasure alight in her gaze, the way her skin flushes the prettiest pink, the soft whines and pants she can’t help but let out.

Her tits are swaying with each stroke over his cock, and Bellamy slides his hands up to them, pinching at her nipples through the lace, the responding clench of her cunt absolutely intoxicating, and, unable to help himself, he begins fucking up into her.

“That’s it, baby,” Clarke coaxes, her voice a soft, husky whine as he meets her with each thrust, his mind clouding and that familiar taut pleasure running down his spine. “Almost there.”

“Fuck, babe, I’m gonna come,” he warns with a groan, barely a second before his balls pull tight and his cock swells, filling her up with ropes of come as his body shakes with the perfect, hot rush of release.

Unsurprisingly, Clarke keeps riding him relentlessly until she’s milked him of ever last drop, only slowing once he’s relaxed back onto the bed, leaning down to kiss at his neck and jaw, as she always does to ease him back to his body after he comes. But fuck if he’s going to let her treat him so well without returning the favour; even spent as he is, cock softening in her perfect, tight cunt, he can still get her off.

“Up you get, babe,” he murmurs roughly, helping her ease off of him with a grip on her ass, then urging her up his torso and to his face. “Hop on and finish yourself off.”

“Yeah?” She asks, excitement clear in her voice.

He chuckles, shifting his hands to her hips to help her straddle his face. “Of course, babe.”

“Fuck, I love you,” she sighs, before easing herself down to his mouth, the laced edges of her panties brushing softly against his chin as she finds the position she needs.

Bellamy takes advantage immediately, sliding his tongue up her slit to taste the headiness of her cunt. Though, with his come already leaking from her cunt, it’s more of a slick mess of their combined arousal, but he doesn’t care; he’s always been of the mentality that if she has to taste his come, he can too.

As it is, all Clarke really wants is some attention on her clit, and Bellamy provides it eagerly, licking and sucking at her as she rocks against him to find the right combination of pace and intensity, and it’s barely a minute before she’s coming undone, trembling above him, thighs clenching on either side of his head, moaning his name as he works her through it.

This time it’s him easing her back to her body, helping her back down onto the bed, pulling her in so she’s half-splayed on top of him, cheek resting on his chest, both of them basking in the warmth of their afterglows.

“Who took the photos?” He asks after a couple of minutes. His fingers are running through her hair slowly, and she's started tilting her head to brush her lips over his skin every few seconds.

“Raven came over earlier,” she says, soft and sated, before looking up at him with another sly smile. “I’ve got a few more to show you. I think I’ve started a birthday tradition.”

Bellamy laughs, smiling down at his wife with so much adoration it feels like his whole body is overflowing with it. “You’re perfect, you know?”

“I know.” Leaning up, Clarke presses a gentle kiss to his lips, an easy type of intimacy that he’ll never get enough of. “Happy birthday, Bell.”

“Thanks, princess. Definitely becoming a birthday tradition.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed!!


End file.
